


I'm Falling For Your Eyes (But They Don't Know Me Yet)

by gilligankane



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think you'll know." One way that Arizona and Callie find each other in the If/Then Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Falling For Your Eyes (But They Don't Know Me Yet)

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for the "If/Then" episode in Season 8.

Arizona stands at the window of her apartment, looking across the street at the hospital. She has a night off and there’s nothing on television and she’s wondering if maybe Chief Grey would let her pick up a few more hours. She wonders if she needs to ask. She’s the  _head_  of peds, after all. She’s a Carter Maddison Grant winner. She could probably do whatever she wants.

She’s about to turn away from the window and get her coat when a flash of red catches her eye. Instead of moving away, Arizona moves closer to the window, almost pressing against it, her damp breath fogging the glass for a moment.

There, under the lamps lining the walkway to the hospital’s front doors, is a little girl in a red rain coat. She jumps from one puddle to the other, enjoying the day’s rainstorm. Arizona smiles a little. These are the moments she needs around kids. For every child like this, there are ten more, in her care, dying. She laughs out loud when the little girl pulls her knees high into her chest and slams them down again, water arching up around her. Another figure pushes the hospital doors open, chasing after the little girl as she gets closer and closer to the parking lot.

_Calliope Torres_ , Arizona thinks instantly. She doesn’t need to see her face to know. Arizona knows by the way she moves and the way she stands with her hands on her hips at the doors. The little girl splashes once more, less enthusiastic than before, and slowly walks towards her mother, allowing herself to be lifted and settled against Calliope’s side.

There’s something about Calliope that Arizona can’t put her finger on. Maybe it’s the way Calliope has the final say in their co-op cases. Maybe it’s the way she smiles at her kids. Maybe it’s the way that she laughs, and how Arizona swears she’s heard it somewhere before. Whatever it is, it makes her a mix of anxious, nervous, and excited, like a fresh-faced med student. She simultaneously hates and loves cases that require them both and how Torres refuses to let anyone work on the kids except her, citing experience.

Arizona pulls away from the window when Calliope and her daughter disappear back into the hospital and opens the file folder for their latest case. Shrugging at herself, she pours herself a glass of wine and settles into one corner of her blue couch, the case file in front of her.

It’s just another Saturday night.

\---

It’s a Sunday morning.

Callie tries to hide the aggravation on her face and shifts Allegra to her other hip, pushing the twin stroller back and forth gently.

“Mommy,” Allegra whines softly. “When is Daddy going to be done?”

Callie wonders the same thing. “Soon, baby,” she promises half-heartedly. She can’t be sure, though. They have already missed church and brunch with her parents and she was foolish to suggest they take one car. It was supposed to be a family thing, though and it would have looked good if they showed up in one car, their little happy family. Now, it’ll look good if they show up at all.

“He’s such a super surgeon, though, that they really need him.”

“Like a superhero?” Allegra asks.

Callie nods, weary. “Yeah, baby. Like a superhero.”

Allegra opens her mouth to add something else when her eyes widen and her entire face seems to brighten. She’s looking back over Callie’s shoulder and for one moment, Callie thinks maybe Owen was finally ready to leave. But Allegra is never that excited to see her father, not since he’s been back, and Callie can just hear the sound of heels against the tile floor.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” she hears. She turns around, tugging a little too hard on the twin’s stroller. “Dr. Torres,” Arizona Robbins adds. “I didn’t think I’d see you here on a Sunday.”

She shrugs as much as she can with Allegra squirming in her arms. “Highway pileup. They called Owen in.”

Arizona nods, eyes on Allegra. “I know. I was called in too. A little boy was…” Her eyes drop to Callie and Callie notes that they’re a little darker than usual. “He didn’t make it here.”

She has to give Arizona some credit. She could never do what the other woman does. Even before Allegra and the boys. Her cousin Maria’s first daughter died young and that small coffin haunted Callie’s dreams for longer than she would ever admit. She only handles the kids with cardio cases because she can’t sleep at night knowing she passed a kid off to one of her residents. None of them are really capable, or, like Yang, capable of being taught.

There’s something about Arizona that is familiar, in a strange way. The way that Arizona smiles at her kids, the way that she advocates for her patients and gives Callie a hard time before she’ll give in. Sometime she sits in the cafeteria, chewing on her straw and Callie wonders why it grates on her nerves and makes her heart flutter a little, in her weaker moments. Whatever it is, it has her staring a little bit longer than she should, wondering a little bit more than is practical.

Arizona hitches her thumb over her shoulder. “Want me to go see if I can take over for Dr. Hunt?”

Allegra finally wiggles free from her arms and drops to the ground, colliding with Arizona’s legs. The other woman lets out a whoosh of air but smiles through it.

“Allegra,” Callie scolds, reaching to pull her daughter back.

Arizona beats her to it, though, lifting Allegra under the arms and hoisting her up. Her daughter loops her arms around Arizona’s neck and beams at Callie. “She’s fine,” Arizona assures her. “We’re old friends.”

Callie lifts an eyebrow questioningly as Allegra nods excessively. “Is that so?”

“One day, Dr. Robbins watched us because Daddy had to work,” Allegra informs her.

Arizona almost looks apologetic. “It was only for a few minutes. I said I didn’t mind. Owen didn’t think it would-”

Callie shakes her head. “No, it’s… It’s fine.” Her pocket vibrates against her hip. She sighs and glances at her watch again, aware of Arizona watching her.

“I’ll go check on Dr. Hunt,” Arizona says again, gently putting Allegra back on the ground. Callie opens her mouth to protest. It’s just her father on the phone. He’ll probably just ask if Callie needs a ride and he already has a set of seats for the twins. Owen can skip brunch this week. Arizona cuts her off, though. “No, really.” She smiles brightly and motions at a resident. “Dr. Percy, can you make sure Dr. Torres stays right where she is?”

Callie frowns mockingly at Arizona but nods at the Dr. Percy hovering nearby.

“Can I go?” Allegra asks, looking expectantly up at Callie. Arizona shrugs minutely and Callie rolls her eyes, nodding. Allegra jumps a little and grabs Arizona’s hand, clutching it tightly as she skips next to Arizona.

Callie can’t explain why, but the sight of Arizona and her daughter walking hand-in-hand down the hall, Arizona leaning slightly to one side to hear Allegra talking a mile a minute, makes something in her heart tug.

She shakes it off and decides it has to be because there goes her daughter, walking away with someone that isn’t her or Owen. Or her parents. Or Bailey, but that was only once and after the way Bailey cried harder than Allegra, it will never happen again.

Yeah, that has to be it.

\---

Arizona will admit when she’s wrong.

And she was wrong about the artificial lung idea. She takes a deep breath as Calliope’s words sink in and she looks at the monitor’s. Riley’s respiratory stats are off the chart amazing. The weight on her shoulders is instantly gone and there’s a warm feeling in her chest as she hugs Calliope.

“Well, good work,” Calliope says later.

“ _Amazing_  work,” Arizona corrects her. “I didn’t even want to do it!” Calliope laughs and Arizona can’t help but smile back. Her hand is still entangled in Calliope’s. “It was amazing. You’re amazing.”

Calliope colors a little at that, her head dipping just a little. Arizona likes that. She likes that Calliope is still seemingly surprised by how good she is at what she does.

“We should celebrate… sometime,” Calliope says.

Arizona wonders if Calliope is really as hesitant as she sounds, but drinks sounds like the best one-syllable word she’s heard all day. “Yeah,” she breathes out. “Yeah, we should. We should get drinks. I mean, this is… this is one to celebrate.”

“Dr. Torres,” Arizona hears distantly. “Here are your kids.” She’s still smiling at Calliope, warming up to this idea of drinks when she hears the soft pitter-patter of shoes, a gait she’s quickly learning to connect to Calliope’s daughter.

“Mommy!”

Callie scoops her daughter up with ease, holding her tightly. “Well, hi, baby girl. Hi.”

Arizona can understand where that comes, the feeling to hug someone you love after a long day in a hospital, whether it’s a good day or a bad day. She usually takes advantage of her brother’s daughter when she travels home, spoiling her until Tim tells her to knock it off. She smiles brightly at Allegra, laughing quietly when the little girl smiles back just as big.

“Well,” Calliope continues. She exhales just loudly enough for Arizona to hear. “Sometime.”

Arizona nods. “Yeah, yeah” she echoes. “Sometime.”

Calliope smiles. “Alright, here we go,” she says, pushing the stroller back the way the kids came from.

When she looks back over her shoulder, Arizona’s heart doesn’t skip a beat.

So maybe she only admits when she’s wrong  _some of the time_.

\---

Callie has a sitter, finally. It takes her about half an hour to actually find Dr. Robbins, but she tracks her down in NICU and knocks on the glass to let Arizona know she’s there. She waits a few more minutes before Arizona comes out of the isolation room, her hair falling out of a solid black cap. She grins crookedly at Callie.

“Dr. Torres,” she says, her eyes a little dimmer than usual. Callie knows that look now and knows what it means. Her heart aches a little for Arizona but she smiles back brightly, hoping some of her excitement rubs off on Arizona.

“I’m cashing in our celebration drink ticket,” she declares, inwardly wincing at how  _stupid_  that sounded out loud. She had rehearsed it earlier but stopped herself from saying it out loud in the locker room. She justified it as not having many friends. And she liked Arizona. As a friend.

Arizona’s smile is filled with confusion, but she isn’t saying no. “Drink ticket?”

Callie waves her hands as if the words are at the tips of her fingers. “For Riley’s case. We said drinks…” she trails off, suddenly even more unsure of herself than she ever thought possible.

“Riley,” Arizona repeats slowly. There’s a heartbreaking minute where Callie thinks she should turn and leave and forget about this, but then the lights go on and Arizona is nodding. “Drinks! Right! You can go?”

Callie nods, smiling again. “My sister is going to watch Allegra and the boys, Owen is meeting up with his buddy Teddy, who just got back, and I’m free, so…”

“So drinks,” Arizona finishes. She pulls the latex gloves off her hands and throws them in the nearby trash. “Absolutely.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “I get done in about a half an hour. I just have to finish my rounds and I’m all yours.”

Something about the way she says it makes Callie want to blush. Instead, she nods and tells Arizona she wants to check on a patient and they should meet at Joe’s, across the street.

Her patient takes a little longer than she expected: a poor, 30-something guy who has gone through about a hundred surgeries already and doesn’t have enough insurance to cover the next one. She wonders if there’s a chance Ellis Grey would let her do the surgery pro bono, but realistically knows it’s not worth the hassle. Even if she could save Henry now, he’d inevitable have to have another surgery. It would be a never-ending cycle. Arizona is already at the bar, talking excitedly to Joe as he hands her a drink. He catches sight of her and nods.

“What’ll it be?”

Arizona turns at the question and smiles brightly at her.

“Scotch and soda,” she answers distractedly, smiling back at Arizona. The thump of glass against the wood bar pulls her attention back to the bar around them and she blinks, looking away from Arizona.

She’s already taking a sip when Arizona holds up her glass. She swallows quickly and raises her glass to meet Arizona’s, grinning when there’s the slight ring of glass against glass.

“To us,” Arizona declares.

Callie smiles widely. “To us,” she murmurs, taking a large sip. She signals Joe for another one.

A few drinks later, someone turns up the jukebox and Callie leans in closer to tell Arizona about the time one of the twins first learned how to push himself up onto his feet. Arizona’s arm is across the back of the chair and Callie can feel it burning against her shoulder, but she likes the way it feels. It’s the kind of burn she used to feel with Owen, before he left. The kind of burn she hasn’t felt since he came back. She’s had enough drinks to be thinking about it and definitely enough to say something and regret it in the morning, but as she opens her mouth, she catches a glimpse of red in the corner and forgets what she was going to say.

She has to squint, but the more she stares, the clearer the picture is. Arizona trails off, mid-sentence and drops a hand to her knee, squeezing gently.

“Calliope,” she starts, turning as she speaks to look over her shoulder. “Is everything…”

“That’s my husband,” she says breathlessly.

Just in case she wasn’t sure, Arizona inhales sharply enough to confirm it. That is her husband, in the red sweater she bought him for Christmas, pressed into a corner booth at Joe’s, a woman against his side. He has his arm around her, pulling her in and he’s laughing into her hair.

She can’t remember the last time she heard him laugh.

The burn of Arizona being so close is suddenly too much. She breaks out of the circle of Arizona’s arm and slides gracelessly off her barstool, pushing past a gaunt-looking girl in dreadlocks with needle marks littering her arm. She’s vaguely aware of Arizona following her, but it doesn’t surprise her when the bathroom door opens instantly after she shuts it and Arizona is standing in the doorway.

“I knew it,” she breathes out. “I had a feeling. I mean, he never talked about Teddy the same way he talked about everyone else. He never took any other calls in other rooms when it was someone else. I remember, I remember a picture,” she rants. “At his mother’s house. Of a woman. Of that woman. And he keeps picking stupid fights and…”

Arizona stays quiet for a long moment. “Are you okay?” she finally asks.

Callie scoffs. “You know, I’m fine. Fine. I’m…”

“People talk,” Arizona says softly. “Where we work, people talk. A lot. So, for the sake of being honest, I think I should tell you that… I know things about you. Because people talk.” She smiles a little hesitantly.

It takes a moment for it to set in. “Oh,” she breathes out. “You mean…” When Arizona nods, Callie sighs. “Terrific.”

Apparently, everyone knows that things in the Hunt-Torres world have been wrong since Owen came back.

Arizona smiles a little wider. “It is, actually, the talk. People really like you over there. They respect you and they’re concerned and interested. They really like you.” She giggles a bit. “Some of them…  _really_  like you.” Arizona waits until Callie smiles. “You just, you look upset about it. And I thought you should know…” Arizona steps a little closer, until the tips of her fingers could graze the bottom of Callie’s shirt, if she really wanted to. “The talk is good. And the talk isn’t about…”

Callie isn’t sure what Arizona means.  _The talk isn’t about my marriage? The talk isn’t about me being a single mother, basically? The talk isn’t that I’ve been caught staring at a **peds**  surgeon so many times it’s indecent?_

“And when you’re not upset and you’re over… being upset,” Arizona says quietly, her fingers actually brushing against Callie’s now. “There’ll be people _lining up_  for you.”

Callie laughs a little bitterly, her eyes welling up with tears. Not tears for her marriage, really. But tears for her children. And tears for the parents she’ll have to let down. And tears for the fact that she’s sitting in a bathroom with a woman she really, really wants to kiss while her husband is sitting in a dark corner with someone who isn’t her.

“Wanna give me some names?” she asks, her gut clenching.

Arizona does this half-smile thing and looks at Callie in a way that makes her feel like she’s a first year med student; like this is something she should know and if she doesn’t, how is she going to make it through her residency and become an attending?

Callie is so focused on that smile that she hardly realizes it’s coming closer until it’s pressed against her mouth. She doesn’t do anything. She doesn’t reach for Arizona, she doesn’t push her away. She stays perfectly still and tries not to ruin this.

“I think you’ll know,” Arizona whispers as she pulls away. They stare at each for a moment before Arizona gives half a laugh, her smile widening as she ambles a few steps backwards, her eyes on Callie. “I’ll be…” She pulls open the door and nods towards the bar. “Okay.”

Callie stares at the door long after it’s closed before she breathes out, “ _okay_ ,” and follows Arizona back to the bar.


End file.
